[Escape 01.0] Escape for the Summer

by Ruth Saberton

  In his baggy trackies and grubby tee shirt, and with his curly hair sticking up like a crazy halo, Cal looked more like a tramp than a legend, but Mr Yuri didn’t care. He was far too busy recounting a match where Cal had apparently shown Rio Ferdinand a thing or too.

  “Yes, yes,” said Angel impatiently. She’d never got football, unless you counted the WAGs and their fashion; then she found it fascinating. “That’s brilliant and everything, but Cal, there’s something Laurence and I really want to talk to you about. We think you’ll love it and it could be the solution to—”

  “Angel! There you are!”

  Simon Rothwell burst through the faded velvet curtains, stumbling across the boards in haste to reach Angel. His usually sunny face was clouded with worry and he was waving his mobile phone about like a Hogwarts first-year pupil in a wand lesson. Thrusting it under Angel’s nose so that she could see the screen, Simon said frantically, “This can’t be right, can it? Is she joking?”

  Colour drained from Angel’s face as she gazed at the screen. Surely not? It didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Andi do such an out-of-character thing? Angel was filled with a deep and certain sense of dread. Something very bad must have happened.

  Si exhaled slowly.

  “You didn’t know either, did you?” He looked around at the others. “I guess you may as well find out from me. It’s Andi. She’s only gone and left Rock!”

  Chapter 44

  The strap of the holdall dug into Andi’s shoulder but she was beyond caring whether or not it hurt. There was something about the physical discomfort of the webbing strap biting into her flesh that was preferable to the savage despair of realising that everything she had worked for and come to treasure was about to come crashing down around her. At least while the strap pinched and the heavy bag thudded against her hip she could pretend that the tears blurring her vision were from pain.

  She paused to swing the bag onto her opposite shoulder and to unwind the carrier-bag handles that were twisting around her fingers and making them glow an unearthly green. It was incredible just how much stuff you could accumulate in only seven weeks, and even harder to believe just how awkward it was to carry it all around without the help of a car. Even leaving heavier objects behind like welly boots and accountancy books didn’t seem to have made that much difference; she was still bent double under the weight of her worldly goods like some kind of mutant hermit crab.

  It was getting late. The evenings were starting to draw in and the scent of woodsmoke in the air spoke of autumn and melancholy. Lights shone from the town, snatches of music drifted on the breeze and, somewhere amongst the higgledy-piggledy rooftops, Gemma was acting her heart out. How Andi wished she’d been able to keep her promise to watch the play. She hated to let Gemma down. But she wished even more that she’d never met Tom, never been stupid enough to trust him…

  There was no point staying: Andi had known from the moment she’d seen her ex looming over her that her life in Cornwall was over. Tom would never let her know a moment’s peace now that he’d found her. Yes, she could have given in and paid up, but she knew Tom inside out and once he’d had a taste of money he’d be back for more. How could she possibly work for Simon when she would be terrified that every new day might turn out to be the one when Tom decided to reveal that she’d been sacked from her last job? The thought of just how let down Si would be didn’t bear thinking about. There was, of course, the option of standing up to Tom and telling Si everything herself, but how disappointed would he feel? Or she could tell her ex exactly where to stick his threats, but then he’d be sure to circulate those pictures out of sheer spite and ruin things anyway. The humiliation would be too much to endure. And how would she ever be able to explain herself to everyone?

  No, there was no option. She had to leave Rock and soon, before Tom could cause any more trouble. The moment he’d vanished over the stile, she’d raced into the caravan, stuffing her belongings into her holdall and a collection of Tesco carrier bags, trying to suppress the growing feeling of panic. A quick note to Angel and Gemma was left propped against the kettle with a promise to call them as soon as she could. Then Andi had walked into Rock in an attempt to pick up a mobile signal.

  Where she was going, Andi didn’t have a clue; she only knew that she had to leave. There was a bus to Bodmin soon and once she was in the small town she would be able to catch a train to London. When she was back in the city she could rent a cheap room somewhere and regroup; her meagre savings wouldn’t last forever, but if she was really careful she might have a couple of weeks’ grace while she looked for a job. Any job. It wouldn’t be like working for Simon – Andi had loved every minute she’d worked for him – and it certainly wouldn’t involve feeling like part of a family.

  She swallowed. How come she hadn’t realised before just how much she missed that sense of belonging, the teasing, the laughter and the easy companionship? Was it because it had been missing from her own life for so long, even before her mother had died? Alex had never been one for close father–daughter chats, and boarding school had been a chilly, sterile experience. The nuns had liked to talk about love but in practice they hadn’t been big fans of it. The Rothwells, though, were always hugging and laughing and having fun. Andi had worked hard but there had always been somebody to chat to: Mel with a cup of coffee and a biscuit, Angel with some hare-brained plan, the boys wanting to kick a ball about, Jonty…

  Andi’s vision blurred dangerously and she bit her lip hard to gain control.

  Was it just the strap of the holdall pulled tightly across her chest that was causing this sharp pain, or was it the thought of never seeing Jonty again? The memories of the time that she’d spent with him were stored safely away in her head, and even before she’d even left Cornwall Andi knew that she’d pore over them in the weeks and months ahead like a miser with his money. The day out on the boat, drinking tea up at the boatyard, sharing chips down by the pontoon; all simple enough, but already tinted golden in her mind’s eye with the sunshine of this perfect summer and the glow of pure happiness.

  The stop for the special summer bus was on the edge of the town, just opposite the same general store where she’d tried to buy the FT all those weeks ago. Letting her bags slide through her fingers and bump to the ground, Andi wondered why she still felt so weighed down. Wearily, she closed her eyes in defeat. If the timetable was running to plan then she was only minutes away from leaving Rock, and her heart, behind. She wondered if she could ever summon up the energy to start again.

  Or even if she wanted to.

  She checked her watch. Almost five past nine – and that sweep of lights headed straight towards her had to be the bus. How typical that just when she longed for a few more minutes it had decided to be on time for once. As the bus hissed to a stop, Andi took one last look around her. If this were one of Gemma’s pink books, Jonty would come screeching up now in his Defender to beg her to stay.

  Andi sighed and hauled her bags onto the bus. It was just as well she was leaving if she was starting to think along these lines. Of course the road was empty: Jonty was with Jax and probably eating dinner in Rick Stein’s right now. This was just another sign, as if the big Tom-sized one wasn’t enough, that it was time for her to move on.

  Ticket purchased, Andi wedged herself into a seat and pressed her forehead against the cool window. Then the bus lumbered forward, away from the town, away from the friends she’d made there and away from the man who, against all the odds, had somehow managed to steal her heart. With the lights of the town growing ever fainter, Andi closed her eyes – and when the tears trickled from beneath her lids she didn’t try to stop them. Even if she’d wanted to, she didn’t think she could.

  Bodmin Parkway, an old-fashioned wooden relic of the golden age of railways, was marooned in a sea of dense trees and a mile or so down a very dark lane. Apart from the tail lights of the departing bus and the orange glow of the platform, the place was filled with an inky blackness t
hat city dwellers seldom see. The car park was empty save the odd car that had been left behind like a leftover tooth in a gummy mouth. An owl’s call scraped the stillness and as Andi lugged her bags towards the ticket office her footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the gravelly path. It was as though she’d alighted from the bus straight into an American slasher movie, and she shivered.

  Maybe this hadn’t been such a bright idea?

  And maybe she shouldn’t have just assumed that there were sure to be trains to London passing through at this time of night? She bit her lip and tried to ignore the little knot of dread tightening in her tummy. There’d be a train at some point. All she needed to do was wait – easier said than done when the waiting room was locked and the ticket office closed for the night. It seemed that she had no choice but to stand alone on the gloomy platform. Hoisting her bag up onto her shoulder, she was about to head towards the small bridge that crossed the tracks to the Paddington-bound line when a sweep of bright headlights cut through the dark with dazzling intensity. A white Range Rover Evoque with registration plates declaring the legend MEL 1 swished to a halt alongside her and, as Andi stood blinking the stars from her vision, the car window hissed down.

  “Andi?”

  The voice from the car almost bowled her over. Squinting into the gloom she made out a figure buried deep in the shadows with eyes as dark as the night that had now wrapped its grasp around the Duchy.

  Jonty.

  Her gaze met his and she stared, unable to believe it. Jonty leaned across and pushed the door open, casting a pathway of light straight to him.

  “I don’t know what this is all about,” he said, “and I’m not going to pretend that I think it’s a good idea to run away, but there’s no way I’m leaving you on an isolated railway platform this late at night.”

  Andi bristled at his tone. She was just about through with the men in her life thinking they could call the shots.

  “I’m fine.” She raised her chin a little. God, it was terrifying just how happy she was to see him. The way her insides were seesawing could only be very bad news indeed. “I’m waiting for the London train.”

  Jonty laughed. “You’ll have a very long wait. The sleeper won’t be here until gone eleven and there’s no way I’m letting you stay here until then.”

  Gone eleven? Andi glanced at her watch. That was almost an hour away. A whole hour of waiting on a deserted platform listening to the trembling hoots of owls and jumping every time there was a scuttling in the undergrowth really didn’t appeal. She tightened her grasp on her bags.

  “Look,” he said, a note of impatience in his voice, “there’s only a few weeks of the summer left. Why don’t you just come back and enjoy them? The place will be empty soon – there’ll be tumbleweed blowing past The Wharf Café – and I know for a fact that Si will give you a bonus. You can’t quit now.”

  “It’s not quitting!” She almost spilled the truth then and there; only her pride stopped her.

  “So what is it? For Christ’s sake, Andi! If you don’t tell me, how can I help?”

  The clenched jaw and the tension in his face spoke volumes. Andi wanted nothing more than to tell Jonty the truth, for him to help, but she knew it was impossible. Why would he believe her?

  She stood her ground. “I’m not going back to Rock.”

  Jonty exhaled slowly. “That’s fine. You don’t have to. If you’re really set on doing this then I’ll drive you to Plymouth. You can catch a Paddington train from there. But I’m telling you now, Andi Evans, I’m not leaving you here alone. No bloody way.”

  The vehemence in his voice settled the matter. Andi may have only known Jonty for a few months but she recognised his I won’t be argued with tone. She’d heard it when he’d made sure that they’d been safe on the boat, when his nephews had been playing up and when Travis had nearly swamped them. She could stand here and argue, Andi knew, but it would be pointless. When it came to being stubborn she’d met her match in him.

  “You’ll take me all the way to Plymouth?”

  He nodded. “If it means you’ll be safe, I’ll drive you to London, but Plymouth’s a good start. There’s a connection there for the last train before the sleeper. You’ll be fine from there.”

  Andi doubted very much she’d ever feel fine again, but the idea of being able to make some headway into the journey and put as much distance between herself and whatever bomb Tom chose to drop was appealing. As though in a dream she stepped forward and, as she crossed the few yards between them, Jonty’s eyes never left her face. They were tired, she thought with a pang, and so sad. Her emotions were suddenly a whirlpool of despair and fear and, most frightening of all, hope. Why was he here? Why had Jonty come?

  “So what’s going on?” he asked as Andi placed her bags on the back seat. “I know women don’t travel light but this looks very much like you’re going away and not intending to come back. And you didn’t even think to say goodbye?”

  Andi couldn’t bear it. He sounded so hurt.

  “I couldn’t.” Andi sagged into the leather seat; she didn’t think she’d ever felt so utterly defeated.

  Jonty sighed. “Andi, I don’t know what’s been going on and I’m not going to pretend I understand, but we’re friends, aren’t we?”

  She nodded.

  “And I would have hoped that because we’re friends you could have told me that you were unhappy in Rock. You didn’t have to sneak away like this.”

  “I’m not unhappy in Rock!” Andi cried, stung. “I’ve loved every minute of living there!”

  “So why are you leaving?” Jonty shot back. The night cast his face into shadows but, even so, Andi could see how upset he was. The skin was tight over his high cheekbones and his eyes glittered in the glow of the interior light.

  “Because… because…” Her voice tailed off. How could she possibly tell him the truth? He’d probably turf her out of the car when he knew how she’d lied to Simon.

  The car surged forward and moments later they were hurtling along the main road. Andi gripped the armrest tightly and, seeing this, Jonty eased off the gas.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said. “And of course you don’t have to tell me. Sometimes people have secrets. God knows, I should be the last person on the planet to criticise anyone for that. If you want to get away then I’ll respect that – I’m not saying I like it – but I’ll not try to change your mind. I can see you’ve made a decision.”

  Andi thought this was ironic. She’d change her mind in a heartbeat if she could. With every mile that drew them closer to Plymouth, the city now a Tango-orange smudge on the horizon, she was feeling sadder. They travelled in silence for a while; the only noises were the sound of the tyres on the tarmac and the ticking indicator when Jonty changed lanes. By the time they crossed the Tamar Bridge, where the lights of the traffic ahead were strung out like jewels above the velvet blackness of the river, Andi was close to telling him everything. There was something about Jonty’s still presence that inspired absolute trust. This was it: her last chance to level with him, to tell him about Hart Frozer and Tom and how she felt about him. With every second that passed she knew they were drawing closer to the station. Terraces replaced cottages, cats’ eyes were chased away by bright street lamps and soon the traffic juddered to a standstill at the red lights. She took a deep breath, but just as she was about to summon the courage to speak, Jonty got there first.

  “I don’t want to pry,” he said, “so forgive me if that’s how it feels, but, Andi, I have to know – is this because of something I’ve done?”

  She shook her head. “No! Of course not! Whatever makes you think that?”

  He shrugged. “I behaved like a prick yesterday. I should never have let you go to the hospital on your own. Not when your hand was bleeding like that.”

  Her hand. Andi had almost forgotten about that and, glancing down, it was almost a surprise to see a dressing. If only the damage Tom was causing could be dealt with so
easily.

  “It’s fine,” she told him. “You were a guest at the party. I wouldn’t have expected you to leave.”

  But Jonty wasn’t prepared to be forgiven so easily. “Don’t make excuses for me,” he grated. “I know when I’m behaving like a cock. Whether or not you’re with Travis Chumley, it shouldn’t make the slightest difference; I should still have been a gentleman and gone with you.”

  “I’m not with Travis!” Andi laughed out loud at the very idea. “That’s you jumping to conclusions!”

  The red changed. Pea-green light spilled across the road but the Range Rover didn’t move. Jonty stared at her.

  “But you spent the night with him! I saw him drop you off the other morning.”

  He looked so put out that Andi took pity on him. “I’d had far too much to drink in Newquay,” she explained. “Travis had to let me sleep it off at his dad’s hotel; not that I need to justify myself! He was very proper. When you saw me, I was dreadfully hung-over and I only made it into work by the skin of my teeth.”

  Jonty was still staring. An impatient blast from the car behind snatched him back to the present and hastily he let up the clutch and had to focus on the road. It may have been dark in the car but it wasn’t so dark that Andi couldn’t make out his smile.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shot her a sidelong look. “The station’s just here, but how about we keep going until Exeter? We’re making good time and you can easily catch a train there. What do you think?”

  Exeter. Forty-three miles away. Andi did a rapid calculation and worked out that this meant at least another hour with Jonty. One more hour before a lifetime of never seeing him again? It was a no-brainer.

  “Exeter sounds good,” she said.

  “I’ll pull in at the petrol station and get us some coffees,” Jonty decided, as he pointed the car back in the direction of the A38. “And you look like you need some food. When did you last eat?”

  Andi had no idea. Breakfast maybe? Before Tom had appeared, in any case. There had been no way she could stomach food once he’d issued his ultimatum.